


Seasick

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breathplay, Creepy, Dubious Consent, Euron is his own warning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Power Dynamics, Seduction, probably underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 01:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14727707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Euron Greyjoy is a handsome man, tall and dark, and Robb does see a certain resemblance to Theon. He looks too young though, more like Theon's brother than his uncle. He slouches against the door, like this meeting of two kings (or two would-be kings) is the most ordinary thing in the world to him. He grins, but it is savage, beastly.And that eyepatch. Theon warned him about that eyepatch. Robb has met men without one eye before, and it never bothered him, but somehow the way it fits on Euron's face is unsettling. It looks less like it's covering an absence, and more like it's holding something back.





	Seasick

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the asoiafrarepairs challenge, the prompt: "Euron x Robb, Euron x Theon. Balon dies earlier and Robb sends Theon to treat with Euron instead. 'Euron is no man's notion of a king'." The Euron x Theon bit wound up off screen and only vaguely implied tho, so sorry about that. >.>

Swirling, churning, circling. Robb grasps the old oak table in his cabin until his knuckles turn white, fighting off the waves of nausea that roll over him as the ship rocks from side to side.

When this was first suggested as a meeting place, he thought it was fair. The sea between their two lands. What could be a more neutral location?

He did not think it through. The sea is Ironborn territory, it always will be. He is a creature of land: born among rivers, and raised deep in Northern snow. He is out of place here.

The door swings open – loud, brazen. Robb's pulse races, his hand flying to his swordhilt. He knows his men think him a fool to conduct this meeting in private, without a proper guard. But Robb remembers Theon's stories, and knows this Euron, King Euron, if he is a true Ironborn king, will never respect Robb if Robb does not believe he could face the other man alone. Grey Wind is outside the door, pacing, ready to leap in if his master is in danger. But for now, Robb  _is_  alone.

He gets to his feet, examining the body that leans through the open door, bringing the rain and wind with it. Euron Greyjoy is a handsome man, tall and dark, and Robb does see a certain resemblance to Theon. He looks too young though, more like Theon's brother than his uncle. He slouches against the door, like this meeting of two kings (or two would-be kings) is the most ordinary thing in the world to him. He grins, but it is savage, beastly.

And that eyepatch. Theon warned him about that eyepatch. Robb has met men without one eye before, and it never bothered him, but somehow the way it fits on Euron's face is unsettling. It looks less like it's covering an absence, and more like it's holding something back.

“King Euron,” Robb greets him with a respectful nod, and he has to remind himself not to bow his head in supplication.  _I am as much a king as he is. More, in fact._

Euron finally closes the door behind himself, seeming unswayed by the storm at his back. The candle flickers on Robb's table, while Euron takes a moment to examine him. “Your Grace,” he drawls, but he says it almost like a joke, like he's just indulging the silly boy on his doorstep. Robb wants to be angry, but he shivers against his will.

“Is Theon with you?” Robb asks, reminding himself of all the wheres and whys of his being here. He has heard things about Euron Greyjoy, after all, and family or not when he learned Balon had been killed mysteriously before Theon reached Pyke, he was concerned.

Euron shakes his head, and smirks wider at Robb's intake of breath. “Don't worry, my dear nephew is perfectly safe and well,” he says, taking a step closer. “I promise I've been taking very good care of him. He couldn't want for more.”

Robb's not entirely sure what that means, but he gets distracted by the scent when Euron steps around to his side. Saltwater, and foreign spice, and dried blood. His pulse races faster. The man is still grinning at him, and Robb realises they are standing too close. He should take a step back, maintain his royal dignity, but his feet won't obey.

“You're fond of him, aren't you?” Euron whispers, the noise almost swallowed beneath the waves and rain outside.

Robb's face turns pink. “He's like a brother to me,” he says, and that makes Euron laugh.

“Not too much like me and my brothers, I'd wager,” he says, and Robb gulps hard, again not knowing what this man means and afraid to find out. He does wonder what happened to Lord Balon. “He cares for you too. It was quite a surprise, to find him in my hall, begging me to help a Stark. What have you done to make him love you so much, huh?”

Robb's pulse races even faster. He can feel Euron's breath upon his neck every time the man speaks. He can't help but feel like that scent is sinking into him, that when he leaves he too will be made of salt, blood, and cinnamon. “Can I see him?”

“Oh, eventually,” Euron waves his hand casually. “We've got to sort out this whole alliance business first, don't we?”

Robb swallows deeply. He can't fight the suspicion he's sent Theon from being his family's hostage to being his own family's hostage. “You need me more than I need you,” Robb warns in a growl, his pride, having chosen to wander off at an inopportune moment, finally resurfacing.

“Do I?” Euron grins at him wider again, and he reaches up, stroking a rough finger over Robb's throbbing pulse. “Maybe you're right. I haven't really tried yet. Maybe I do need you, boy, if I want to win this war.” A pause. Robb digs his nails into the table again, feeling unsteady on his feet. “But maybe I don't. Either way, you're the one who asked me to come here, aren't you?”

Robb moans softly as Euron spreads his strong palm around his neck and, just barely, squeezes. It's not enough to truly make it hard to breathe, but Robb finds himself panting obscenely at the gesture anyway.  _What is he doing? Why is he touching me like this?_  Robb wonders, and then shudders, unsure what 'like this' even means.

The hand relaxes, but Euron does not let go, tapping his thumb against Robb's flushed skin in time with the rain outside. “Th-Theon,” Robb gasps, struggling for a memory, an illusion of what should happen here. “You'll forgive my concerns over him, Your Grace, simply – I did hear rumours.”

“Most people have,” King Euron tells him proudly, his grip around Robb's throat tightening. Robb whimpers as the air is blocked off for his lungs, and he wonders how on earth he would explain the bruises. “You're right to be scared. I've done  _terrible_  things.” Robb shudders again. “Just not to him.”

The hand lets go, and Robb pants again, his fingers gone numb from gripping the oak so tight.  _Gods, what has he done to me?_  Theon used to whisper one of his uncles was a sorcerer. Mayhaps Robb should have listened. Euron shifts an inch closer to him, and then Robb can feel the other man's thigh pressed against–

The man, the king, the ironborn, the monster has gotten him hard, Robb realises. He isn't sure how. But he is aroused, in the most literal sense of the word – every nerve in his body stands on end, ready to flee or to throw himself at the man's feet.

“I thought you'd pose more of a challenge,” Euron mutters, almost disappointed, and seemingly more to himself than Robb.  _What?_  “Rest assured, I don't mean to keep you and my nephew apart forever. I'd quite like to see you two reunited.”

_Yes, but what do you want from my first?_  And Euron's hand travelling down the length of his jerkin answers that question. “Don't,” Robb whispers, his hand making no move for his sword. Outside, Grey Wind waits.

“Oh, they all say that at the start,” Euron laughs, and Robb's sure it's true. “You're just like any other boy, aren't you?”

And Robb says nothing, does nothing as the iron king starts to undress him. He stares into that black void of an eye, and thinks of the stories Theon used to tell. Of the storms and beasts of the iron sea, that could drag any man to their death.


End file.
